Reckless, Sexy and Fun
by the little harlequin
Summary: AU/AH. Based on The Great Gatsby. It's 1922 and Stefan Salvatore has come to New York. There, he meets the legendary Klaus Mikaelson, whose parties are the talk of the town. However, Stefan soon finds out that the motivation behind all this extravagance is a woman - a woman Klaus lost many years ago to another man, but plans to win back. A woman named Caroline Forbes.
1. No Church in the Wild

_So, I went to see The Great Gatsby last night and I just **loved** it. The thing is, as I was watching it, it struck me as a very Klaroline film, which is why I just had to write this._

_Disclaimer: I do not own The Vampire Diaries or The Great Gatsby._

* * *

New York. 1922.

The tempo of the city had changed sharply. The buildings were higher and the parties were bigger. The morals were looser and the liquor was cheaper. The restlessness approached near hysteria as the whole place pulsed with life and vibrancy. It could be a man's making or breaking.

For Stefan Salvatore, he intended it to be the former.

A writer by trade, he was enamoured by the city that never slept and applied for a post at a newspaper there, under the urging of his good friend, Alexia Branson. It was by no means a prominent position, rather he'd be expected to write smaller pieces to fill out the pages, but it was a start.

When he arrived in New York, in the summer of 1922, the city exceeded his every expectation. The people, the buildings, the sounds, the _culture_ - he couldn't wait to explore it all. He bought a house - a small, but comfortable abode - on Long Island, across the bay from a favourite cousin of his that he'd not seen in many years. Not since her marriage to millionaire business tycoon, Tyler Lockwood, three years previous.

When Caroline had discovered his new place of residence, she wasted no time in inviting him around to dinner. Evidently, she missed him as much as he missed her.

The Lockwoods house was huge - more of a mansion, really - and he felt very small as he entered, dressed in his best and clutching his bowler hat in his hands. Unlike some in the world, Stefan was no stranger to vast amounts of money. His own father, Giuseppe Salvatore, had possessed some wealth, but it paled in comparison to what the Lockwoods had.

"Stefan, my friend!" Tyler Lockwood greeted him with a firm handshake and a friendly clap between the shoulder blades, "Come, Caroline's right through here!"

Stefan nodded and followed his cousin-in-law to a pair of double doors at the end of a long corridor. The hallway floor was ornately tiled and portraits of long deceased Lockwood men lined the rich crimson walls. Stefan gazed up at them, his eyebrows raised in a look of ill-disguised awe.

Tyler threw open the heavy wooden doors at the end of the long hall into a hexagonal sunroom of sorts, with each cream-coloured wall dominated by large French windows. They had all been cast open, allowing the sunlight to spill into the room and the white gossamer curtains danced and twisted in the light summer breeze.

A laugh, melodious in its mirth, drew his attention to a white velvet couch. "Is that you, Tyler?" a breathless voice whispered and a hand appeared, coming up to clutch at the backrest of the couch. A ring, with a diamond bigger than any Stefan had ever seen, glinted on the hand's third finger.

"Look who's here, Caroline," Tyler said, moving to the liquor cabinet to fix a drink for himself. Stefan watched as he poured a generous amount of amber liquid from a decanter into a crystal tumbler.

Caroline sat up and folded her arms along the backrest, leaning forward to rest her chin on top of her arms. Her eyes were alight with joy and a smile danced on her lips as she looked at him.

"Stefan," she said, happily.

"Hello, Caroline," he replied, a corner of his mouth pulled up into a half-smile as he tipped his head forward in a modest nod of greeting.

She beamed, arising from the couch and sweeping around it gracefully, the red fabric of her dress floating in the air as she moved. She wrapped her arms around him in a fervent embrace.

"Oh, Stefan, you have no idea how _wonderful_ it is to see you again," she said into his shoulder, before breaking apart and taking his hand in hers, "Come, you must meet my friend, Katherine. She's a very famous model, you know. All the top photographers want her."

She tugged his hand urgently and he had little choice but to obey as she led him round the couch to the other figure sitting there. The woman rose with a certain feline grace to meet him, her black dress shimmering in the light. She smiled up at him, a glint of mischief in her eye as she took a long, luxurious drag from her cigarette.

"You must be Stefan," she noted in a seductive purr, inclining her head to the side to exhale a billow of smoke.

"Stefan Salvatore, Katherine Pierce," Caroline beamed, taking Katherine's hand in the one that wasn't already holding Stefan's, "I shall be playing matchmaker all summer long as it is my mission to get you two together. Even if it means locking you in linen closets, I assure you it will happen!" she giggled, releasing them both and collapsing onto the couch.

"Caroline," Tyler murmured, taking a sip of his drink, "You're getting too excitable, dear."

"I do apologize," Caroline shot back, with a certain bite to her tone, not even turning to look at him, "I thought that seeing my cousin again would merit some excitement, although clearly I was wrong."

Stefan swallowed, feeling uncomfortable by the sudden outburst. Katherine rolled her eyes discreetly and took another drag from her cigarette - clearly, for her, this was a daily experience. Colour flooded Tyler's face, turning it an odd maroon hue, and he opened his mouth to reply. Stefan braced himself for a cutting retort, but none came. Instead, a servant appeared at the door, inclining his head respectfully to his master.

"Sir," he said, "Dinner is served."

* * *

After the heated exchange between Tyler and Caroline, dinner was a strained affair. It was made even more so by the fact that, every so often, the telephone would ring and Tyler would have to excuse himself to answer it. With each new call, Stefan watched as Caroline's eyes dropped to focus on her meal with more care than was necessary, her face an impossible shade of white.

It was as Tyler returned from taking the fifth or sixth call of the evening that Katherine turned to Stefan and asked him where he was staying. Stefan glanced up from his soup and replied that he had bought a house just across the bay.

"Whereabouts?" Katherine pressed, suddenly very intrigued, "Not next to that big one?"

"Yes, why?"

"Oh, you don't know?" Katherine giggled, biting her bottom lip, "That's Mikaelson's house."

Caroline looked up at them, "Mikaelson?" she echoed, raising her glass of wine to her lips and taking a sip, "What Mikaelson?"

"He throws the most amazing, wonderful, _extravagant_ parties around. Almost like something out of a dream!" Katherine continued, excitedly, "Stefan, you really-"

_Ring, ring! Ring, ring!_

The unwelcome fifth dinner guest had struck up again. Stefan watched as Caroline shook her head, looking very much like she wanted to cry, while Tyler gripped his knife and fork tighter, his knuckles gleaming a stark white colour. Katherine took a long sip of her wine and swallowed it thickly.

_Ring, ring! Ring, ring!_

With a clatter, Tyler dropped his silverware to the table and leapt up from his seat, excusing himself to the other room to take the call. Caroline watched him go, wide-eyed, before she swept from the room to follow him, closing the door behind her. Stefan knew an argument was imminent and he turned to Katherine in the hopes of distracting them both.

"So, you're a model?"

"_Shh_," she shot back sharply, waving a hand to silence him, "I want to hear what's being said."

"What?" Stefan demanded, incredulously.

"I only want to find out if the rumours are true," Katherine replied, tilting her chin up a fraction primly.

"What rumours?'

"That Tyler Lockwood has been indulging in mistresses, of course!" Katherine explained, tracing the rim of her wine glass with the tip of her finger. At Stefan's baffled expression, she bit back a laugh - rather unsucessfully, "What? Who did you think was calling all night? The office?"

The door opened and both Tyler and Caroline returned to their places at the dinner table - Tyler sitting at the head, with Caroline to his right. Caroline kept her eyes downcast as she picked through the rest of her meal, while Tyler cut his meat a little too vigorously.

"So, Stefan," Tyler broke the tense silence that hung in the air, chewing loudly on his food, "what paper did you say you were working for?"

* * *

"I'm glad you're here, Stefan," Caroline said to him quietly after dinner, as they walked, arm-in-arm, through the vast gardens of the Lockwood estate. It was night, but the moon was full, giving them with ample light, "It's been far too long."

"It has," Stefan murmured in agreement.

"How is everyone in Mystic Falls? Your father and Lexi?" she asked, genuinely curious. Caroline and Lexi had been childhood best friends, but lost touch when Caroline and her parents moved west.

"They're fine," he replied, nodding, "Lexi's engaged now. To a man called Lee."

"That's wonderful!" Caroline exclaimed, beaming, "Is he a good man?"

"I've only met him once or twice, but I think so," he said, with a smile, "He's not a very rich man, but they're happy together. They plan to move to Georgia once they're married."

"Well, as long as they're happy together," Caroline said, "That's the most important thing."

Stefan nodded, expressing his agreement. He thought it was a loaded statement, coming from her, especially when she seemed so miserable around Tyler. Looking at her now, it seemed as though all the life had been drained out of her. She was like a shadow, a pale imitation, of the lively young girl Stefan had known growing up - the girl with a bright smile and a sharp tongue.

"Speaking of marriage and engagements, what do you think of Katherine?" she continued, slyly, with a smirk, drawing him from his thoughts, "I know she's a bit rough around the edges, but she has a heart of gold really. And I think she likes you. She would make a good match for you, Stefan."

"How are you, Caroline?" he asked her, feeling as though he could no longer keep the question in.

"Well, I'm all the better now my favourite cousin is here," she laughed, poking him playfully in the ribs.

"No, I mean really," he pressed, carefully, his tone little more than a whisper.

Her smile faded and she broke away from him, taking three steps forward. Some of the pins must have fallen out of her hair as her blonde curls fluttered in the light breeze. Stefan watched her cautiously, concern weighing heavily on his features.

At last, she turned and, even by the moon's pale light, he could see a redness to her eyes, as if she was holding back tears, "Tyler's away a lot," she admitted, raising a shaky hand to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear, "Away to God knows where with God knows who!"

"Caroline," Stefan whispered, taking a step towards her and putting a hand on her shoulder in a consoling gesture.

She looked away from him, out across the bay, "You know something, Stefan," she whispered, her voice quivering slightly with emotion, "Sometimes I think that, when I have a child, I hope to have a little girl. And I hope to God that she will be a fool, because I believe that's the best thing a girl can be in this world - a beautiful, little fool."

His brow furrowed and he frowned, at a loss for words on how to reply, "God, listen to me! I sound so horrible!" she remarked, a crinkle appearing between her eyes, "I don't know how you put up with me, Stefan!"

"Well, you put up with me," he returned, with a smile, "I'm just returning the favour.

She laughed and slapped his chest lightly. A cool breeze whistled by them, carrying with it the sharp scent of sea water, and Caroline shivered, hugging her arms around her.

"Oh, such a chill in the air for summer!" she giggled, taking his hand and already starting the walk back to the house, "Come on, let's get back inside. We wouldn't want your first few weeks in New York to be marred by catching a cold!"

* * *

By the time Stefan returned home, it was late. Going on eleven o'clock, almost. He bade goodbye to the driver of the car the Lockwoods had called to take him home, before he made his way up to his small, comfortable abode.

As he mounted the steps to his porch, he happened to look seaward, his eyebrows rising in a look of surprise when he saw a figure standing on the lawn of the house neighbouring his.

The figure was cloaked in darkness, but Stefan could tell it was masculine and slender in frame. As he watched him, he seemed to be reaching out to something across the bay - though what exactly, Stefan didn't know. All that could be seen through the fog was the green light that burned at the end of the Lockwoods' dock.

Stefan felt his mouth go dry. Was this the famous Mikaelson? The man who threw such wondrous, extravagant parties? Like something out of a dream?

He decided to call to him. Katherine had mentioned him at dinner - that would do for an introduction. But, in the end, he did not. Something told him that Mikaelson was content in his solitude and wanted to remain that way.

At last, the figure turned and retreated back inside. Stefan watched him go, before following suit and disappearing into his own little house.

The green light burned on.

* * *

_So, should I continue? Reviews are loved! c:_


	2. Love Is the Drug

_Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews, alerts and favourites you gave the first chapter! c:_

_Disclaimer: I do not own The Vampire Diaries or The Great Gatsby._

* * *

The next day, Tyler arrived at Stefan's house in his automobile, without so much as a warning, to announce that he would be taking him into the city for lunch. _'If you're going to be here for some time, I feel like we should get to know each other better,' _he'd said, clapping him on the shoulder, _'For Caroline's sake, of course.' _

Which was why, instead of spending his afternoon with a pot of tea, writing in his journal, Stefan found himself clutching his hat to his head as he and his cousin-in-law drove into town in the Lockwoods' open-topped vehicle. For Caroline's sake.

"I just need to make a quick stop first," Tyler explained as he pulled in beside a garage on the outskirts of the city. Stefan swallowed, glancing around at the industrial wasteland they had stopped in, a chill creeping down his spine.

Eternally grey, the 'valley of ashes', as it was known to the majority of New Yorkers, was the slums of the city. Where the poverty-stricken came to set up a life - or what passed as a life in these parts. Desolate and grotesque, the whole place was lorded over by a towering billboard, depicting the bespectacled blue eyes of the famed oculist, Dr. T. J. Eckleberg. Some likened them to the eyes of God, surveying over his creation, and - while he was by no means a religious man - Stefan still shivered, averting his gaze.

"Good God! Where the devil is he?" Tyler growled, giving the horn a sharp blast. Stefan could see his cheeks were beginning to colour and a vein throbbed dangerously in his temple as his frustration mounted.

At last, a young man emerged from within the depths of the garage, wiping his hands on a filthy rag. He was in his late twenties perhaps, only a few years older than Stefan, with shaggy black hair and the most striking pair of blue eyes the young Salvatore had ever seen. He was wearing a pair of oil-stained overalls and heavy black boots, a thick sheen of sweat glistening on his brow.

"What the hell took you so long?" Tyler snarled at him.

"So sorry, Mr. Lockwood. It won't happen again," the man replied, tipping his head forward apologetically. Tyler nodded gruffly, seemingly satisfied, but Stefan could tell the man's apology was anything but sincere. In fact, he seemed to be mocking him.

"Just fill her up, Damon," Tyler ordered, patting the dashboard emphatically, and Damon raised an eyebrow at him.

"You do know that'll cost you a dollar fifty, right?" the mechanic asked.

"Yes and I'll give it to you once you've done your job," Tyler countered, a savage bite to his tone, "Now, if you don't mind, we're in something of a hurry."

Damon nodded and, tossing his rag aside, retreated back inside the garage to fetch the fuel. Tyler shook his head and turned to Stefan, "The way some of these commoners see fit to speak to us, eh?" he said and Stefan assumed the right response was to nod, so he did, but not without a measure of uncertainty.

"Damon, are you here? I've made you some lunch if you want," a new voice said and both Stefan and Tyler turned in their seats to see a beautiful, young woman descend the staircase in the garage, "Oh! Good afternoon, Mr. Lockwood. I'm so sorry, I didn't realise he was with someone."

Her voice was demure as she spoke to him and she bowed her head. Unlike Damon, Stefan could tell she was being sincere in her respect. She was a little slip of a thing, this girl, with wide doe eyes and rich dark hair pinned back into a bun. She was dressed plainly, in a simple grey dress and a pair of sensible shoes, with a smudge of flour under her left eye.

Tyler lounged back in his seat and flashed her a disarming smile, displaying each and every one of his dazzling white teeth, "Hello, Elena," he said, in a way Stefan could only describe as lecherous, "Stefan, this is Damon's wife, Elena."

He tipped his hat to her, permitting her a small wave. She returned it with a polite smile, "It was lovely to see you, Mr. Lockwood, but I'm afraid I must go tend to my soup," she said, bidding them farewell and retreating back up the stairs.

Tyler watched her go, his eyes raking over her slender frame with an unabashed hunger, "She's a lovely little thing, wouldn't you agree?" he remarked, nudging Stefan in the ribs, "Such a shame that she only has eyes for that brute Damon."

As if on cue, Damon returned, waving the fuel in the air. Stefan and Tyler were silent as he filled up the car, the latter watching the mechanic carefully. When he was finished, Damon took a step backwards and held out a hand, dirt visible beneath his fingernails, "A dollar fifty."

"Here," Tyler spat, throwing the money on the ground.

Damon spared him a glimpse of a glare, before he gritted his teeth and kneeled down to collect the coins. Tyler smirked to no one in particular, pleased to have established his superiority. Damon straightened, pocketing the money.

"Always a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Lockwood," he replied, his lips pressed into a thin line and his words poisoned with undisguised contempt.

Tyler's lips curled into a sneer as he started the engine and pulled out the clutch. Without so much as an expression of thanks, or even a farewell, he pressed down on the acceleration and sped off, leaving only a cloud of dust in his wake.

"You know what," Tyler said, clenching the steering wheel tighter as they neared the city, "I say we forgo lunch altogether. In fact," he flashed Stefan a smirk, "I have an even better idea."

* * *

Stefan sat in the living room of a non-descript apartment at the heart of New York City. It was a small and cramped little place, with peeling wallpaper, a threadbare rug and furniture all too large for it. Tyler was gone, having disappeared into the bedroom with the woman who lived there not ten minutes after they'd arrived. Hayley, her name was.

Sighing, he produced a packet of cigarettes and lit one out of boredom. He inhaled a deep drag, blowing out the smoke from between his teeth. He crossed one leg over the other, cigarette still held between his lips, and leaned back against the couch, throwing up an arm along the backrest. His gaze was fixed on the painting on the wall opposite him - a portrait of a wolf howling at the moon. It wasn't an altogether pleasing painting, but it helped distract his mind from the rhythmic squeal of bedsprings from the neighbouring room.

Finally, he could take it no more.

Putting out his cigarette, he placed his hat firmly on his head and made for the door. If he hurried, he could catch the four o'clock train back to Long Island. He briefly considered leaving a note, explaining his absence to Tyler, but he doubted very much he would care - not when he had his _friend_ to entertain him.

His eyebrows lifted in a look of surprise, however, when he opened the door to see two women already standing there, one with her hand poised to knock. They were both about the same height, though one had curly blonde hair and looked slightly older than her companion, who had light brown hair that fell in loose waves past her shoulders.

"Hi, I'm Jules," the one with blonde hair greeted him, shrugging out of her coat and pushing past him into the apartment.

"And I'm Vicki," the other announced, following her friend.

Another door opened and Stefan glanced around to see Hayley emerge from the bedroom, clad only in a red satin robe tied loosely round her middle. She grinned at the two girls, throwing her arms around them and gathering them up in a tight embrace. Tyler stood in the doorway, watching them as he leaned against the frame with his arms across his chest. His suspenders were twisted, as though they'd been adjusted in a hurry, and his hair was a tousled mess.

Stefan hoped he could use the excitement of the newcomers' arrival to slip away, unnoticed, but he barely had a foot out the door when a heavy hand fell on his elbow, pulling him back in. He turned his head and found himself staring into the hard, dark eyes of his cousin-in-law.

"Where are you going?" he demanded, refusing to release him.

Stefan exhaled a sigh, "Home. I have some work that needs done."

"What, why? You _do_ know that Hayley only invited Jules and Vicki here for you, don't you?"

Stefan took a step forward, lowering his voice so the women couldn't here, "Listen, Tyler, I don't really feel comfortable with all this," he admitted, gesturing with a flick of his wrist to the girls, "Caroline's my cousin, after all."

"I know," Tyler hissed, agitated, "I know. And I love her very much - _I do_ - but sometimes it helps me to just get away from it all. To have a little fun, once in awhile, because that's all this is, Stefan - _fun_. So, why don't you come back inside," he reached out a hand to push the apartment door closed, "and get a drink?"

A very large part of Stefan screamed at him not to, told him to firmly remove Tyler's hand from his arm and walk out the door. But another part of him, not quite as large but undeniably _there_, prompted him to remove his hat and coat and say,_ 'well, perhaps just for one drink.'_ Tyler grinned at him, slapping him on the back as he led him back into the living room where Hayley held out a glass of gin.

He accepted.

Stefan had been drunk a total of three times in his life. Once was with his friend, Lexi, when they were seventeen and feeling rebellious. The second was at his twenty-first birthday. And the third was that afternoon, in the tiny apartment at the heart of New York, with three strangers and his adulterous cousin-in-law.

As such, the next few hours passed in an alcohol-induced haze of chatter and laughter, of cigarette smoke and gin. They drank, they smoked, they danced. Within the first hour, he'd lost his tie. Within the second, he'd lost his shirt. By the end of the third hour, he'd more clothes off than on and yet he didn't seem to care as Tyler poured him another generous glass of whiskey.

"Where did you say you were staying at again?" Jules asked him lazily, around ten o'clock as Tyler and Hayley disappeared into the bedroom once again. The flow of liquor had dwindled to a stream and they'd entered into something of a lull.

She was sprawled out along the floor, in only her undergarments and stockings, a cigarette poised at her lips with one hand while the other traced circles on her stomach. Vicki was dressed in Hayley's satin robe, her long legs stretched out languidly as she lounged on the couch, flicking through a magazine.

"Well, I have a house. Out on Long Island," Stefan replied, his fingers clasped around a bottle of gin, "Next to a man named Mikaelson."

Vicki looked up in interest while Jules scrambled up, kneeling before him eagerly, "Mikaelson?" she whispered, breathlessly, resting her arms on Stefan's knees, "_The_ Mikaelson? Do you know him?"

"Well, no, I-" Stefan started to reply only be cut off by the sound of the bedroom door being wrenched open.

"Don't you _dare_ say her name!" Tyler snarled after Hayley as she marched from the bedroom and began gathering up her clothes.

"Oh, I'll say her name if I damn well please!" Hayley shot back, whipping around to face him as she pulled on her blouse, "Caroline! Caroline! Caro-"_  
_

_Smack!_

Jules and Vicki screamed as Tyler's hand made contact with Hayley's face. Stefan watched, wide-eyed, as her cheek turned a horrible red colour and the gash Tyler's wedding ring made, just below her eye, started to bleed. Tyler swallowed and ran a hand through his hair, taking a step backward as the two girls rushed forward, in aid of their friend, brandishing tissues and ice.

"Goddamn it, Ty!" Jules berated him angrily, her arm slung around Hayley's shoulders as Vicki held the ice to the red, stinging mark on her cheek, "What are you, huh? Crazy?"

"Hey, hey, hey! You all saw it, she provoked me!" Tyler snapped, jabbing an accusatory finger at Hayley, "And, as for you, how high and mighty are you to have a go at me now. Did you forget who paid for all that gin and whiskey you've been drinking? How about all those cigarettes you've been smoking?"

Stefan's face was a mask of ill-disguised horror as he watched the scene unfold until he could no longer stand it. In the hysteria, he managed to slip away to the window, unseen, and he climbed out onto the fire escape in only his undershirt and boxers, his fingers still wrapped tightly around the bottle of gin. He gasped as the fresh air hit him, sobering him up slightly, and he relished the ability to think with some coherency again.

He rested his arms on the rails of the fire escape, a light breeze rustling through his hair as he looked out onto the city below. It was night and still it buzzed with life. In the street, a dark-skinned man played a lively jazz solo on his trumpet. Stefan closed his eyes and tried to focus on the music, in an attempt to drown out the yells coming from the apartment.

It didn't work.

Shaking his head, he took another swig of alcohol.

* * *

Stefan wasn't sure how he got home, but the next morning he awoke on his porch swing with his coat thrown over him as a makeshift blanket. He sat up, confused, and glanced around him, shivering slightly against the slight chill in the air.

An uneasy feeling settled in the pit of his stomach, the type one might get when they think they're being watched.

He lifted his gaze to the grand house beside his and swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. From one of the many windows, he could feel the eyes of Mikaelson, watching him as the eyes of Dr. Eckleberg watched the valley.

Why, though, remained a mystery and, gathering his things, Stefan scrambled back inside.

* * *

Moving from the window to his desk, the man known as Mikaelson began to pen an invitation.

* * *

_Yes, Damon and Elena are George and Myrtle, although - unlike their book counterparts - they are very much in love and happily married. And, as you probably already guessed, Stefan and Damon are not brothers in this._

_Also, apologies for the lack of Klaroline in this chapter, but I promise there will be loads to come, teehee! :)_

_As always, reviews are loved! :3_


	3. A Little Party Never Killed Nobody

_Again, thank you so much for all your wonderful reviews, alerts and favourites! c:_

_Disclaimer: I do not own The Vampire Diaries or The Great Gatsby._

* * *

Two days after his excursion with Tyler, Stefan was sitting down to a light lunch, alone, when a knock sounded at his door. Pushing back his chair, he got up to answer it, surprise and confusion flashing across his features when he saw a man in an eggshell blue uniform standing on his porch. He had with him a small, square envelope served up on an ornate silver tray.

Stefan gazed at the envelope with a measure of suspicion, prompting the man to intone, "From Mr. Mikaelson."

Filled with a sudden curiosity, he thanked him and grabbed the envelope eagerly. It was an invitation of sorts, inviting him to a little party Mikaelson was hosting that weekend. It said that he hoped Stefan would come as he would like to meet him properly, having seen him around once or twice. He explained that he meant to call on him sooner, but a combination of circumstances prevented him from doing so.

In response to the invite, Stefan had his best suit cleaned and, when the weekend came, dressed in it, fixing his collar and straightening his tie until he looked near impeccable. He arrived at Mikaelson's place promptly, at around eight, to find himself swept up in a crowd of at least two hundred people, all flooding through the gates into the sprawling estate. Clearly, "little party" was something of an understatement.

He remembered what Katherine had said, about his parties being like something out of a dream, and now seeing one now firsthand, he had to agree with her. The whole place seemed to glow, lit up with various different coloured lights, and glitter rained down from the heavens, coating everything. The air pulsed with music - lively and wild - the type that would make even the stiffest of gentlemen tap their feet in time with the rhythm.

Mikaelson's invite weighed heavily in his pocket and Stefan made a valiant attempt to find his host. However, his questions on his whereabouts were met with either blank stares or shrugged shoulders - even from the staff. Eventually, he was forced to resign himself to the fact he wouldn't meet the famed Mikaelson tonight and he slunk away to instead find himself a drink.

With a glass of whiskey in his hand, he moved to the overhanging balcony and gazed out onto the dancing crowd below.

"I thought I might find you here," a familiar voice said and Stefan turned to see Katherine walking towards him. As always, she moved with a certain feline grace that Stefan realised she must apply to all her actions.

She looked nothing short of stunning in a dress made of black lace that clung to her slender figure nicely. Her thick, dark curls had been swept to the side, held in place with a series of diamond studded pins. She offered him a gloved hand and he raised it to his lips.

"Miss Pierce," he greeted her, smiling at the familiar face amongst a sea of strangers, "I didn't know you'd been invited here."

"Invited?" she let out a musical laugh, "Why, Stefan, no-one's _invited_ to a Mikaelson party. They all just _arrive_."

His brow furrowed in confusion, "You mean...?"

"Everyone and anyone turns up at his door. And when I say anyone, I mean _anyone_," she said, moving to the balcony's rails and beckoning him to look, "See? From senators and governors to the riffraff who probably had to clean the ashes from their suits before they came."

"But do they all know him? This Mikaelson?" Stefan asked her, raising an eyebrow.

She laughed again, "Hardly. I doubt anyone does," she said, before she lifted her gaze to meet his with a mischievous glint in her eye, "Here, I'll show you."

She leaned over the railings and surveying the crowd before her. Finally, she looped her arm through Stefan's and made her way towards a pair of giggling girls in matching yellow dresses.

"Hello," Katherine smiled at them and Stefan nodded his head in greeting.

The girls adopted identical looks of shock, "Miss Pierce!" they cried in unison._  
_

"You may not remember us, but we met you at a party here last month," one said, a little breathlessly while her friend nodded vigorously.

"Ah, yes," Katherine replied, her chin tilted up a fraction haughtily, "You've dyed your hair since then."

The girls looked thrilled to be remembered.

"Excuse me, but my friend here is new to the area," she continued, patting Stefan's arm emphatically, "Would you mind telling him what you know about Mikaelson?"

"Well, not much, I'm afraid," one girl frowned thoughtfully, "He fought in the war. For our side, of course."

"Don't be silly, Sophie," her friend admonished her, "He fought for the Germans."

"No, he didn't, Jane-Anne!" Sophie countered, "Davina told me that he fought for us."

Katherine thanked them for their input, though her words fell on deaf ears as the girls' argument grew more heated, and she led Stefan away. She paused, looking around them carefully, before dragging him to sit down at a table next to a youngish couple, who smiled up at her warmly.

"Stefan, these are some good friends of mine, Jenna and Alaric Saltzman," she said, gesturing to them, "Jenna, Alaric, this is Stefan Salvatore. He's Caroline Lockwood's cousin, who just moved into the house next door to this one."

A waiter passed their table with a tray of champagne flutes and Katherine stood up, taking two. As she sat down, she handed one to Stefan, who accepted it with a murmur of thanks. "Are you not drinking, Jenna?" Katherine noted, arching an eyebrow at her as she took a sip from her own glass.

Jenna exchanged a smile with her husband, who, himself, was nursing a glass of bourbon. It didn't escape Katherine's notice and she gazed between the two of them, wide-eyed.

"You're not?" she gasped, leaning in slightly in her eagerness for information.

Jenna beamed brightly, "I am."

"Oh, how wonderful! Well, I wish all three of you the very best, then," Katherine declared, raising her champagne flute in the air.

"Hear, hear," Alaric added, clinking his glass off hers.

"A baby. Can you imagine?" Katherine sighed, sinking slightly in her chair.

"So, you're new to New York?" Jenna asked Stefan, with a kind smile. Her auburn hair was twisted up into an elegant knot at the side of her head, with three feathers (teal, to match the colour of her dress) protruding out.

"Yes, I just moved here from a small place in Virginia," he said, his reply punctured with a quick sip of champagne.

"Mm! Do you know that this is his first time at a Mikaelson party?" Katherine interjected, patting his arm, "Tell him what you've heard of our esteemed host."

"Well," Alaric began, finishing his bourbon in a single gulp, "I heard that he's a cousin of Kaiser Wilhelm II."

"What? No! I heard from Logan Fell that he's King George V's bastard son," Jenna replied, a furrow appearing in her brow.

Katherine shared a look with Stefan as she got to her feet and he followed suit. She bade goodbye to Jenna and Alaric, promising to go to lunch with them both next Tuesday, before she took Stefan's arm in hers and led him away again.

She took him up to both strangers and acquaintances alike, always with the same request on her lips: _'Tell my friend what you know about Mikaelson.'_ And, every time, the response he got was different.

_"I heard that he's a German spy,"_ a girl in a blue chiffon dress replied, in a hurried whisper.

_"My friend told me that he's the son of some gypsies,"_ an older man remarked, knocking back a shot of whiskey.

_"I heard he killed a man once,"_ another girl said, an uneasy lilt to her tone.

"There, you see? No-one seems to know who he is," Katherine concluded, as they returned to their original spot by the balcony. She flashed Stefan a smile as she whirled around and smoothly lifted two glasses of gin from the tray of a passing waiter.

Stefan accepted the proffered glass and shot her a quizzical look, "And what about you? What can you tell me about our esteemed host, Mr. Mikaelson?"

She smirked as he redirected the question she'd been asking all night onto her. She took a sip of her drink, delaying her response, as she mulled it over, "Well, I know that he throws large parties. And I like large parties. They're so intimate. At small parties, there's never any privacy."

"Is that so?" Stefan asked, swirling his drink around in the bottom of his glass.

"Yes, watch," she commanded and, rising up onto her tiptoes, she kissed him full on the mouth. It could only have lasted a second - maybe two - but it was enough for Stefan to gaze at her in ill-disguised shock when they broke apart. She only giggled. "You see? If we had done that at a small party, it would have been the talk of the town by tomorrow morning. Here," she gestured around her sweepingly, "no-one will pay any heed."

Stefan nodded, willing away the colour that had suddenly flooded his cheeks, "You're an awfully devilish woman, do you know that?" he remarked, sparing her a friendly smirk.

Katherine raised her eyebrows, but she didn't seem offended. If anything, she took it as a compliment. "Well, that's why you like me," she grinned, winking at him.

He felt a presence brush up against him on the balcony, "How are you enjoying the party, mate?" a man's voice asked, the question wrapped up in a thick British accent.

Stefan downed another gulp of his drink, not turning to face the man as he replied, "Well, it's unlike anything I've ever been to before, that's for sure. I haven't even met the host yet. I live just over there," he gestured in the general direction of his house, "and this man Mikaelson sent over his chauffeur with an invitation. There, you see?" Stefan produced the small square of paper as proof.

"I'm sorry," the man replied, the smile in his voice clear, "It seems that I haven't been a very good host. I'm Niklaus Mikaelson." Stefan whipped around so fast that some of his drink sloshed out over the sides of his glass, "But, please, call me Klaus."

He extended his hand to him and Stefan shook it numbly, still in a state of shock. After hearing the various stories that surrounded their esteemed host, Stefan could only stare at him in awe. To be honest, Klaus wasn't anything like he'd envisioned at all. He was in his late twenties - or, perhaps, early thirties - with curled brown hair and pale blue eyes. He was a slender man, but something about his stance told Stefan that he could more than match anyone unfortunate enough to challenge him to a fight.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Stefan said, sincerely.

He felt Katherine come to stand beside him and he tossed a glance her way. She looked equally surprised to see their host, her eyes wide. Klaus turned his smile to her and nodded to her once in greeting.

"Ah, Miss Pierce," he said and she recovered from her shock long enough to grant him a charming smile, "So glad you could make it tonight."

"It's as wonderful as always," she replied.

His smile grew broader at the compliment. He looked like he was about to speak again when a butler appeared by his side and whispered to him that Chicago was on the wire. He excused himself from their presence apologetically, promising to rejoin them later.

"He's not what I expected," Stefan remarked as they watched him leave.

"Well, what did you expect? A fat, old man with no hair?" Katherine asked, with a quirk of her lips.

"Admittedly, yes," he replied.

"I did, too," she said and they shared a smile.

"Miss Pierce?" Klaus's butler had returned, "Mr. Mikaelson would like to see you in his study immediately."

"Me?" she echoed, disbelief colouring her voice, "Are you sure?"

"Yes, madame," the butler nodded.

"Well, all right," Katherine conceded, with a nod. She turned to Stefan and gave his arm a quick squeeze, saying that she would find him afterwards.

Stefan watched her go, swallowing the rest of his drink. He found Jenna and Alaric again, still sitting at the same table as before, and they welcomed him over like an old friend, as opposed to someone they'd just met a few hours ago. He grabbed another drink and joined them at their table, where they proceeded to swap life stories. He discovered they both knew Katherine from work - Jenna was another model, while Alaric was a photographer - and they would be married three years this coming September.

In return, Stefan told them about his career as a writer and the life he had in Virginia and how it differed greatly to the one he was trying to build here in New York. (_'Such a big change,'_ Jenna said, frowning.) They also talked about Katherine and they gave him the same summary of her character that Caroline did - rough around the edges, but a sweet girl at heart.

When the clock struck three, Jenna and Alaric stood to leave. Looking around him, Stefan saw that most of the party was also filing out and he got to his feet as well. He shook hands with Alaric, chuckled when Jenna hugged him and made plans to meet them both for tea someday. As they left, arm-in-arm, Stefan felt someone grab his shoulder.

"Stefan!" Katherine cried with an intense fervency, her eyes wild, "I have just heard the most shocking thing! It all makes sense!"

"What?" he asked her, his brow furrowed in confusion.

She screwed up her face and swore under her breath, "I can't tell you. Not here," she explained, breathlessly, "But, just know, _it all makes sense_."

"What does?" he demanded, growing slightly agitated.

"I can't tell you yet," she repeated exasperatedly, "Listen, are you free next Thursday?"

"I think so," he said, sparing her a suspicious glance, "Why?"

"Because we'll meet for tea and I'll tell you then," she replied, "I promise."

He opened his mouth, but before he could reply, she kissed him on the cheek, murmured a goodnight and disappeared off into the departing crowd. He watched her go, the furrow in his brow only deepening as he held a hand to where his cheek held the imprint of her lips.

Huffing out a sigh, he shook his head and made to leave. As cars thundered away from the mansion, Stefan ducked between the trees and to follow the dirt path back to his house. He'd barely advanced two steps when something made him turn, casting a glance back at the grand monument before he returned to his own humble abode.

From one of the upper windows - his study, perhaps - Stefan saw Klaus with a drink in his hand, watching. Watching _him_. Stefan caught his eye and smiled, raising his hand in a wave. Klaus looked surprised by the gesture, but returned it nonetheless.

Across the bay, the green dock light winked at them through the fog.

* * *

_Here, watch as I throw some Steferine at you. While my OTP for Katherine is Kalijah, I've always had this soft spot for Stefan/Katherine and I thought I'd include it here. So, sue me. :P_

_As always, reviews are loved and I can promise you that, next chapter, there will be some Klaroline action. At long last, I hear you cry! c:_


	4. Young and Beautiful

_Thank you for the wonderful reviews, alerts and favourites! You are all so lovely! c:_

_I would also like to thank nfinneman for the gorgeous cover she made for this fic. :3_

_Disclaimer: I do not own The Vampire Diaries or The Great Gatsby._

* * *

Over the next week and a half, Stefan found himself spending a lot of time with Klaus, as his enigmatic neighbour became something akin to a friend. He took Stefan to lunches and dinners in the very heart of the city, introducing him to the rich and famous alike, all of whom he seemed to know on a first name basis. It was a surreal feeling for Stefan, the young man from the small town of Mystic Falls, to be sitting between senators and governors, eating pheasant and smoking cigars, while the jazz band played in the corner.

By their third meeting, Klaus knew Stefan's entire life story, exchanged over two large glasses of brandy by the roaring fireplace at the men's club. The only son of a moderately wealthy businessman, he was unmarried, having been engaged once to a woman named Rosalyn Cartwright, though she died of a fever while he was overseas, fighting in France. When he returned home from the war, his father had wanted him to take over the family's business, but he had moved to New York instead to pursue a career as a writer. Klaus took it all in with an expression of great interest, nodding patiently and only interjecting once or twice to pose a question or press for more information.

But, while Klaus knew all this about Stefan, he was yet to return the favour and the young Salvatore found himself knowing nearly nothing of his new friend's history. He had told him some things, of course, when questioned, like how he was the son of some very wealthy people (all dead now) and that he had fought in the war as a major, obtaining an array of decoration for his valour, but he never elaborated on these tidbits nor did he ever offer the information without prompt.

On the Thursday he was to meet Katherine for tea, Stefan awoke early to give himself enough time to prepare before he caught the twelve o'clock train into the city. Though they'd spoken once on the telephone, he hadn't seen her since the night of Mikaelson's party, her parting words to him still ringing in his ears._ 'Stefan, I've just heard the most shocking thing! Meet me for tea and I'll tell you then.'_ Curiosity gnawed at him as he fixed his collar and shrugged into the jacket of his day suit, wondering, not for the first time, what Klaus had said to her during their private audience that night.

He arrived at the tearoom promptly around one, the grey clouds overhead warning of an impending storm and he cursed himself for not bringing an umbrella. It was an upper class place she'd chosen to meet, the type he'd never find in Mystic Falls, with dark crimson walls and a rich cream carpet. Katherine stood as he approached her table, one fitted snugly in a secluded alcove, giving him the distinct impression she did not want their conversation overheard. She beamed at him broadly, looking a vision in a dress of flowing grey silk that rippled each time she moved.

"Stefan," she greeted him, with a smile, kissing his cheek gently.

"Hello, Miss Pierce," he replied, nodding his head to her respectfully.

"You have no idea how glad I am you could come," she remarked, taking her seat and gesturing for him to take the one opposite.

He did, lifting the teapot that sat between them and pouring them both a generous amount of hot, brown liquid. She smiled at him in thanks as she accepted her cup, adding a tiny spot of milk to her tea from a dainty little jug. In the centre of the table was an ornate, three-tiered silver plate tray, boasting an array of cakes and finger sandwiches. Stefan took one - a smoked salmon affair - and placed it on his china plate.

Katherine took a sip of her tea, before replacing her cup in her saucer and clearing her throat softly, "I suppose I owe you an explanation for the way I behaved at Klaus' party the other night," she began and Stefan felt his stomach knot anxiously - _this was it_.

He glanced up at her from where he was stirring a lump of sugar into his tea, working to keep his features composed, "I'll admit this shocking secret you heard, but couldn't tell me, has been troubling me quite a bit," he replied, keeping his tone even.

"I couldn't tell you _then_," Katherine clarified, shaking out her napkin and smoothing it across her lap, "There were too many people around. I _can_ tell you now, however. Should you care to listen."

"It's nothing bad, I hope?" Stefan asked, raising an eyebrow at her in concern.

Katherine sucked in a deep breath and glanced around her at the other patrons of the tearoom. Content that they were all otherwise occupied and not listening in, she leaned in to whisper, "It's about Caroline."

"Caroline? My cousin, Caroline?" Stefan echoed, his brow furrowed in an expression caught somewhere between confusion and worry.

"Yes. Now, I know this will be difficult for you to understand, but you must be patient with me. You see, the thing is," she paused to wet her lips, her hesitation palpable, "he's in love with her, Stefan. Klaus is in love with Caroline."

"_What_?" Stefan demanded, choking slightly in surprise as he took a sip of tea the very same moment her revelation broke the air, "But he doesn't even _know_ her!" he hissed, once he'd recovered, his cup landing back in its saucer with a clatter.

"Well, that's what I thought, too - at first. But then I remembered, that night at the party, that wasn't the first time I'd met him," Katherine replied, tracing the rim of her teacup with a gloved finger, "No, I'd met him five years earlier, in fact. At your Aunt Elizabeth's house in Louisville. Of course," she shook her head, "I didn't know him as Klaus then, I only knew him as Major Mikaelson."

"Are you saying that Klaus and Caroline knew each other during the war? At Louisville?" Stefan asked her, swallowing a mouthful of tea thickly. His eyebrows were raised in a quizzical expression as he pressed her for more information.

"Yes. You know it was turned into a convalescent home during the height of the war, don't you?" He nodded in response. "Well, Klaus was one of the wounded soldiers brought there to recover in July 1917."

* * *

_The hot, summer sun beat down on Katherine and Caroline - then, only nineteen - as they strolled, arm-in-arm, through the vast gardens of the Forbes' estate. They both looked like visions in white, though Caroline's dress was much plainer than Katherine's, who'd opted for a chiffon affair with a more elaborate design. A little extra flair to match her personality, she'd said, with a saucy wink._

_"Do you know," Katherine began, flapping a floral fan at her face, "that not one of those officers looked at me twice the other night at dinner?"_

_Caroline spared her a smile, "They're probably all intimidated by the legend that is Katherine Pierce," she remarked, chuckling slightly as she poked her friend playfully in the ribs._

_"Perhaps," the dark-haired girl agreed, tossing her curls over one shoulder, "Although, I know for a fact you're only saying that because you've already attracted the eye of one. What was his name again? Major Mikaelson, was it? He seemed rather taken with you, from what I could see."_

_"Oh, come off it. We only spoke briefly," Caroline said, rolling her eyes, though her cheeks were tinged an odd pinkish colour._

_"Still, you think he's handsome, don't you?" Katherine pressed, arching an eyebrow at her friend._

_"Well," the blonde shrugged, kicking a stone out of her path, "He's not unattractive."_

_"And you'd like to get to know him better, wouldn't you?" Katherine continued, relentless._

_"He seemed interesting enough so, yes, I suppose I would," she conceded, with a little shrug of her shoulders._

_"Well, here's your chance," Katherine giggled, nodding ahead of them._

_Caroline glanced up to see Major Mikaelson approaching them in his heavy officer's uniform, despite the stifling heat. He stopped in front of them and spared them both a charming smile._

_"Good afternoon, Miss Pierce. Miss Forbes," he lifted Caroline's hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles gently._

_"What a lovely day," Katherine commented, shielding her eyes __from the sun's glare with her hand as she looked at him, "Have you seen the lake yet, Major?"_

_"No, I'm afraid not," he replied, shaking his head._

_"Oh, it's a simply delightful piece of scenery!" Katherine gushed, with a wide smile, "Here, Caroline will show you," she added, pushing her friend forward slightly._

_Caroline stumbled, tripping on the hem of her dress. She would have fallen had it not been for a pair of strong arms reaching out to catch her. She glanced up into the pale blue eyes of Major Mikaelson, who straightened her, releasing the hold he had on her shoulders._

_"Thank you," Caroline muttered, her cheeks burning a deep scarlet colour that had nothing to do with the heat, "Katherine," she turned to her friend, addressing her through gritted teeth, "Won't you join us?"_

_Katherine let out a little laugh as she fanned her face, "I can't, I'm afraid. I'm meeting some photographers for tea in an hour and I must go get ready," she explained, not sounding the least bit contrite, "I'll see you later, though."_

_She spared them both a little wave of her gloved hand, before she turned and began her walk back to the house. After advancing a few steps, she tossed a discreet glance over her shoulder. A triumphant smile lit up her features when she saw Major Mikaelson offer his arm to Caroline, who took it after only a moment's hesitation, and - together - the two of them walked off towards the lake__._

* * *

_"_He looked at her the way all girls want to be looked at," Katherine remarked, her elbow propped up on the table and her chin resting in her hand. Her features had adopted an oddly wistful expression that Stefan raised an eyebrow at.

He cleared his throat gently, replacing his cup in his saucer with a soft clink. Katherine glanced over at him, snapping out of whatever trance memories of the past had lulled her into. She swallowed and set about smoothing a non-existent crease in her dress.

"So, he was in love with her," Stefan repeated, slowly, still finding it difficult to digest this new information, "Was she ever in love with him?"

"Well, you know how stubborn Caroline is," Katherine replied, raising her cup to her lips and taking a dainty sip, "It took her some time, but soon she fell for him the same way he fell for her," her lips turned up into a smile, though the gesture was melancholy, "They were going to be married someday."

* * *

_Raising her skirts slightly, Katherine marched through the Forbes' mansion, in search of Caroline. Outside, a dreadful downpour beat down on the ground, forcing everyone indoors. Katherine hated being confined to the house - it made her feel bored and fractious and she sought out her friend to amuse her._

_She heard Caroline's unmistakeable laugh coming from the sitting room and she approached the door, intent on throwing it open and demanding she spend some time with her. However, the sound of another laugh made her pause. The door was left ajar and she approached it quietly, easing the crack open just enough to let her see in, but still remain undetected._

_Caroline was sitting in a cushioned chair, her hands folded in her lap, while Major Mikaelson sat on the couch opposite her, moving a pencil across a pad of paper. His brow was furrowed in concentration as he worked._

_"This certainly is taking very long," Caroline remarked, with a musical laugh._

_"I think you'll find it would take less time, love, if you were a more patient subject and stopped squirming around as much," he shot back, though his lips were curved up into an amused smile._

_Caroline's eyebrows rose in mock offence, "Well, maybe I should just go and leave you subjectless," she retorted, giving him a little smirk of her own._

_"No need, I'm finished now," he declared, with one, final stroke of his pencil._

_"And it only took two hours," Caroline said, in jest, as she rose from the chair and crossed to the couch, taking the seat beside him, "Well, is the subject allowed to see the work?"_

_He handed her the pad and, though Katherine couldn't see the drawing, she could tell it was good by the way her friend's eyes lit up with ill-disguised wonder. The blonde met her companion's gaze with an awed smile, "This is amazing," she breathed, "Although," she shook her head, "I think you've taken some liberties - there's no way I'm as beautiful as you make me out to be here."_

_Major Mikaelson stared at Caroline as she dropped her gaze to the floor. Finally, he reached out a hand and grasped her chin gently, forcing her to look at him, "This," he gestured to the drawing, "is the way I see you."_

_A corner of her mouth pulled up into a small half-smile, "Then I'm afraid your vision is flawed."_

_He exhaled a quiet chuckle, shaking his head, "I doubt that, sweetheart."_

_They lapsed into a charged silence, in which they simply gazed at each other with such raw emotion that Katherine had never seen the likes of it before. At last, the major broke the silence with two simple words that seemed to resonate throughout the entire room, reaching even the darkest of corners._

_"Marry me."_

_"What?" Caroline replied, letting out a little huff of surprise._

_Major Mikaelson took one of Caroline's hands in both of his, "I love you, Caroline, and I want to marry you," he said, his eyes burning with an intense fervency, "Not now, but someday. After the war."_

_She stared at him, unblinking, "You're serious, aren't you?"_

_He flashed her a roguish smile, "Very."_

_She shook her head in wonder, her blonde curls bouncing, "Yes," she said, at last, a little breathlessly, "Yes, I will marry you, Klaus."_

_He grinned, his lips crashing down on hers in a passionate kiss to seal their engagement._

* * *

"What happened?" Stefan asked, the baffled expression still dominating his features, "Why did she marry Tyler if she was so in love with Klaus?"

"Well, when Klaus returned to the front lines to fight, Caroline wrote him letters. The first few received replies, but those sent after received none. She heard no word from him for several months, until - finally - a telegram came through, saying he was missing in action, presumed dead," she replied, her tone somber, "Naturally, she was heartbroken, but, by then, Tyler Lockwood had already started making a play for her hand."

She punctured her story with a sip of tea, "His mother was a friend of your aunt's and, together, they pushed Caroline into accepting his proposal," she continued, "You must understand, Stefan, Tyler was a very respectable man and a marriage to him guaranteed her financial stability until the day she died. Your aunt only wanted the best for her daughter."

"She married Tyler a year later and never heard the name Mikaelson mentioned again," Katherine continued, "That is until I mentioned it to you a few weeks ago at dinner. Up until then, I'd never seen his face and I assumed he and the Mikaelson I knew just shared a name - I can't tell you how many Pierces I've encountered over the years - but after you left, Caroline came to me and questioned me about him. She wanted to know if it was Klaus, her Klaus, but I couldn't confirm or deny her beliefs until I met him properly at the party."

Stefan shook his head, "It seems a strange coincidence that he should buy the house directly opposite the Lockwoods," he commented.

"That's the thing, Stefan," Katherine whispered, her sculpted eyebrows raised meaningfully, "It _isn't_ a coincidence. He bought that house so he could be close to Caroline. _She's_ the reason he throws all his parties. He hopes that someday she'll just wander in."

Stefan leaned back in his chair, numb with shock. He recalled the first time he encountered Klaus, when he was just a shadowy figure standing on the neighbouring lawn, reaching out into the bay. Now, he understood. The green light that burned, both night and day, at the end of the Lockwoods' dock, he was reaching out to it - to Caroline. _It all made sense._

"He wants to know," Katherine began, drawing him from his thoughts, though her voice was different this time - gone was the easy flow as she told her story, replaced now with an uncertain lilt, "He wants to know if you will invite Caroline for tea and then let him come over."

He looked visibly taken aback by the request, delving into two minds on how to respond. On the one hand, he didn't want to seem like he was interfering in his cousin's marriage. But, on the other, if Katherine's story was to be believed, she obviously cared for Klaus a great deal and would it be an act of cruelty on his part not to allow them to meet, to let Caroline know he was alive and well?

"Stefan," Katherine prompted him, her tone gentle as she reached out a hand to place on top of his.

Inhaling a sharp breath through his nose, he looked up at her, "I'll have to think about it," he said, at last.

* * *

Klaus' request played heavily on his mind, even after he left Katherine's company. It plagued him the entire train ride home as he weighed, silently, the pros and cons of facilitating such a meeting. It was as he was fumbling with the key to unlock his front door that he heard a familiar voice call to him.

"Stefan, mate!" He tossed a glance over his shoulder to see Klaus standing on his front lawn, his hands shoved into the pockets of his trousers and a smirk playing on his lips, "Where've you been?"

Stefan turned and descended the steps of his porch to meet Klaus, "I was in the city," he replied, choosing his words carefully, "Having tea with Miss Pierce."

"Oh?" Klaus replied, his eyebrows raising in a look that seemed mildly quizzical, but didn't quite belie the agitation that lay underneath as he - no doubt - wondered how Stefan would respond to his request.

"She told me everything, Klaus," Stefan admitted, "About you and Caroline. About how you want to see her again."

"Stefan, I-" the older man started to say but he was cut off.

"You should know that I have and always will have Caroline's best interests at heart," he continued and he could see Klaus' smile slip a little, the corners of his mouth already turning down into a frown, "And my answer is yes."

A look of surprise flickered across Klaus' features as his lips curved up into a grin, "Yes?"

"Yes," Stefan repeated, nodding, "Next Friday, at three o'clock sharp, I'll invite Caroline over for tea."

* * *

_Just to clear something up, the aforementioned Rosalyn Cartwright is a character that Stefan was actually engaged to before he met Katherine and is mentioned in the tie-in book series: 'The Stefan Diaries.'_

_I hope you enjoyed the Klaroline __in this chapter and there'll be plenty more where that came from as the next one focuses on their present day meeting! c:_

_Until then, however, reviews are loved! :3_


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